


Song For the Broken Girl

by RonRos47



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, F/F, Original Character - Freeform, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 12:16:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonRos47/pseuds/RonRos47
Summary: Alex meets a girl and decides to help her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING.  
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> 
> Now this story deals with the topic of self harm so if you choose to read it do so at your own risk. I go into the details of it so be careful.

It started when she was twelve. 

At age thirty Annette Marquez hated to think back to those days but that’s all that she knew. Sure there were good moments. 

She had friends and a loving family but it just wasn’t enough. She wasn’t sure why it happened or why it started. There were some inklings such as moving schools and not having many friends. She’d gone to a particular school district from the time she was in diapers. She had friends, friends who knew her, friends who loved her. She had parents who were teachers and loved that district. Her friends parents were parents with Annette’s parents. It all seemed perfect but perfection was gone. 

The school lacked a soccer team and that was her one true love. She’d started playing soccer from the time she was five. During soccer at P.E. when she would play she went all out. Her friends complained about not passing the ball. Why should she when they were all bunched up and the goal was just ahead of her? She’d been taught to not bunch up so she played the way she knew. It irritated her friends but she didn’t care. This was her game and they knew nothing about it. So when the middle school lacked a soccer team she’d convinced her parents to let her move schools.

Her new school didn’t go exactly as planned. She only knew two girls from her city league soccer team, Ash and Angie, but they’d grown up together as did a majority of the other kids. Though Annette made friends with them she always considered those friends as the friends that ‘belonged’ to Ash and Angel. 

Annette felt like an outcast and she would often say mainly to herself but out loud, “I should have stayed at my old school” and other kids would tell her “yeah you should have.” That only made things worse for her.

And so her depression began. She began wall punching and eventually that led to cutting in her college years.

Annette hated that time period in her life. She hated everything. She lost interest in playing soccer, she hated her friends, she hated school, she hated all of her classes except for English. Then she hated high school as well. She was struggling to get by with c’s and d’s while her classmates around her bragged about their a’s and b’s. She hated them for it. She hated them. She hated the fact that people knew about her wall punching but no one did anything to help. She hated her own mind. “There’s something wrong with my mind,” she would often say but no one would listen. No one cared.

She was glad to get out of those years but the pain followed her through college.

*****

While on patrol and having just arrested her latest human killer Alex Danvers saw her. A girl on the beach with a knife in hand and blood on the sand. No, not a girl but a woman her age. Despite the knife there was something different about her. Somehow Alex knew she wasn’t a threat.

Alex told her team to take care of the situation.

“What is it,” Kara/Supergirl asked as Alex kept starring.

“I’m not sure,” Alex replied. “I’ll catch up with you later okay?”

“O...kay,” said Kara.

Alex walked passed her sister and was grateful when she flew off. Alex made her way over to the woman.

“Hey,” said Alex. 

Annette quickly lowered her sleeves and hid her blade inside it. She quickly wiped the sand away.

“Hey,” Annette said softly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Well it’s really not your problem is it?”

“Guess not but I’m here now.” Alex took a seat next to her and Annette shook her head in annoyance. “Want to talk?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well whatever it is I’m willing to listen.”

“And I should care why?”

“Because who else will? You think you can hide it but you can’t. The blood in the sand, the knife inside your shirt, the long sleeves when it’s a nice day on the beach.”

“You’re wearing a long sleeve too.”

“It’s for work.”

“Excuses. You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right I probably don’t but I have a clear idea.” Alex took off her vest and her long sleeve. 

“What are you doing?”

Alex revealed a regular t-shirt. “I need to show you something.” She then lowered her shirt from the top. Annette saw the scars on her chest. She brought her left hand to hers. “I know more than you think,” said Alex.

“Are those-,” 

“Mine, yeah.” She released her shirt so that they were covered again. “You’d be surprised at how there are some people can relate to your situation. Not all stories are the same but sometimes they lead to the same place.”

“Why are you showing me those?”

“To show that you’re not alone. Even if it wasn’t me coming to talk to you I’m sure it would be someone else only they probably wouldn’t have the scars.”

“Why would anyone care? I’ve been here for two hours and no one has come up to me. I’ve been doing this for an hour and no one has noticed. Instead they see me and they pass by me. No one says a thing and why should they? By-standard effect. See but don’t say. Someone will say something but no one does. Sure the long sleeves help conceal it but still.”

“I care. I’m Alex by the way.”

Annette nodded. “Annette,” she said giving Alex her name.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Can I see?”

Annette hesitated. She had previous scars and she was proud of them for a while but down the line in her life she wanted to cover her scars. She figured they were part of her past so she got them covered up with tattoos, something beautiful to cover up the pain but the pain was back.

Taking a deep breath Annette slowly rolled up her left arm. In empty places between her tattoos were various cuts, some deep others simple. There must have been over five. Alex gently held the arm. 

“Annette,” Alex said her name as if they’d been friends their entire lives.

Annette began to cry. She then quickly put her pocket knife in her back pocket and rolled up her right sleeve where there were more.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay, I promise. Come on.”

“Come on where?”

“My place.”

*****

“You know I shouldn’t be here right,” said Annette.

“This is exactly where you should be unless you want me to take you to a hospital.”

“And have them judge me or put me in a psych ward no thanks. I guess since I’m here might as well show you something else.” Annette lowered her shirt like Alex had done to reveal similar scars. “When I ran out of space I needed some other place to do it. Here seemed like the best spot since no one could see.”

“Exactly.”

“So are you a doctor or something?”

“No not really. I went to medical school for a while but then got medical training elsewhere.”

“Yeah like where?”

“The FBI.”

“So you’re a fed?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“Teacher. Kinder through third grade.”

“So you like kids?”

“Not particularly but they seem to like me so I figured might as well make the most of that since I’m not good at anything else.”

“Oh I don’t believe that.”

“I do.”

They remained silent as Annette watched Alex stitch up her arms. Sure some of them were deep but Annette hadn’t realized it. All that she was focused on was the high she got. Depth didn’t matter. The high was usually the best part. With alcohol wipes Annette used them every time on her tools, be it blades, pocket knives, or a pair of scissors, as a way of sterilizing them. The rest became easy as she went from one side to another. Then using alcohol wipes again to clean her tool.  
She could still remember the high she got with each cut that had now become a scar. It was exactly that, a high. She didn’t need drugs, she didn’t need to get buzzed from alcohol. This was her addiction. 

It’s what had brought her to do it today. There was no reason, no pain, just a simple miss of the high. The way her mind tingled as her arms tingled. The way she felt dizzy because of the pain though it wasn’t really pain as it was a wave of euphoria. The way she smiled when she did her dance. Her own little secret even if there were others who could see. The enjoyment of it all. Sometimes there was a reason behind it, other times there wasn’t and this was one of those times.

“Guess you have a high tolerance for pain.”

“Yeah this whole thing will do that.”

“Can I ask how you got started?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere and I hope you aren’t either.”

“Don’t really have much of a choice now do I?” Annette sighed, “I was twelve. New school, no friends. I tried cutting but at the time it scared me so I wall punched instead. People knew but no one helped. I was angry at them for a long time, parents included. The cutting didn’t start until college. Lived in a small dorm room with a roommate that I didn’t talk to. School got to be stressful and I couldn’t exactly wall punch so I would hide in the bathroom and do it there. After that the wall punching stopped and the cutting began. Lucky me hu?”

“No, not lucky. I’m sorry this happened to you, Annette.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Are you seeing anyone, a therapist? There’s a few I can recommend.”

“Thanks but no. I am seeing one though. Have been since I was nineteen, same one actually. About three years ago though I was recommended to a psychiatrist. What a way to make me feel crazy hu?”

“Hey, none of this is crazy.”

“It is to me. My psych labeled me as having Bipolar I Disorder. To think that’s how it’d been this whole time. I see my psych doctor and my therapist and being on medication helps but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Especially on those days when my head feels tight. That’s the only word I know to use. Tight. It’s like I’m trapped and the only way I can release it is to stop the meds all together this way my mind can be free and I can go back to the sporadic and rapid episodes since I miss all that. I miss staying up for days at a time and writing. I miss going from one thing to another, I miss the euphoria I got from all that. Hell I even miss listening to some of the music I used to listen too. Skillet helps me but I can’t listen to Evanescence without feeling the darkness.”

“Music can do that sometimes. It’s a powerful thing. Speaking of music I love your tattoo. ‘Rise or fall I’ll keep pushing forth,’ now those are some lyrics to hold onto.”

Annette smiled, “Yeah. So Alex, I’ve told you my story, what about you? I mean you showed me your scars so what’s the deal with yours?”

“High school wasn’t exactly an easy thing for me. I had this friend of mine. We eventually had a falling out over something so stupid. I don’t even remember what it was. Well I couldn’t deal so I did this instead. My mom found out and got me counseling. I never did it again.”

“Lucky. Mine has lasted for eighteen years. It’s strange to even say that. Let alone admit I’ve had the same therapist for eleven of those years.”

“Annette, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it. Your story is valid just like anyone else’s. Remember that okay?” Putting the final touches on the cuts, Alex began covering them with bandages. “There, all done.”

Annette rolled down her sleeves.

“Hang on, I’ve got shirt you can borrow. That one’s soaked in blood.”

Alex went over and got the shirt for Annette. She took off hers and put on the new one.

“Thanks and not just for the shirt.”

Alex smiled, “You’re welcome.”

“Well I should go.”

“Now?”

“There’s no reason for me to stay.”

“I can think of a few. At least let me look after you.”

“You’ve all ready taken care of my arms. I think you’ve done enough.”

“Still I feel like I could be doing more.”

“I am thirty years old you know. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not trying to act like a babysitter. Consider me one friend looking out for another.”

“Oh so we’re friends?”

“Well it’s a start don’t you think? I mean I did just bring you to my apartment.”

“Yeah but not by choice.”

“You’re not making this easy are you?”

Annette smiled, “I rarely do with a lot of people. I can be hard sometimes. And I'm not exactly good with people in general.”

Alex smiled back. “I’ve noticed. Come on it’s just for one night. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your arms say otherwise. Just one night I promise.”

“Okay just one night.”

“Good. So you got your phone on you?”

Annette reached into her left pocket, ignoring the pain on her arm. She pulled it out and handed it to Alex.

“This is my number,” she said as she input the number into the phone. “It’s also my address at work and here. You can call or text me any time. You can show up any time. I’m serious, Annette, don’t consider yourself without a lifeline okay?” she said as she handed the phone back to Annette.

“Thanks,” she said putting it back into her pocket. “Guess I should do something in return.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes I do.” Annette hesitated and reached for the pocket knife in her back right pocket. She held it in her hand, turning it around. Taking a deep breath she reluctantly handed the knife to Alex. “I shouldn’t keep this. We both know what will happen if I do. I won’t make any promises just yet but I can try not to do it again.”

“I’m not asking anything of you from that but thank you,” she said taking the knife. Annette nodded. “So you hungry? I was thinking we could order a pizza or something.” Alex walked over to the trash and threw away the knife. It stung but Annette tried not to dwell on it. Alex then went to the fridge and pulled out two beers.

“No thanks,” said Annette, “I don’t drink.”

Alex put one of the bottles back in the fridge, “Okay, no alcohol got it. What about sparkling water,” she said as she pulled out a bottle of that.

“That works,” she said as the two girls smiled. Annette looked down for a second and then back up. “Hey Alex, thank you.”

Alex smiled, “You’re welcome.”


	2. Lyrics to Broken Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic was inspired by @Iamsuperconfused. It was also inspired by my own experiences. The title of the fic was inspired by the song "Broken Girl" by Matthew West.

"Broken Girl"-By: Matthew West

Look what he's done to you  
It isn't fair  
Your light was bright and new  
But he didn't care  
He took the heart of a little girl  
And made it grow up too fast

Now words like "innocence"  
Don't mean a thing  
You hear the music play  
But you can't sing  
Those pictures in your mind  
Keep you locked up inside your past

This is a song for the broken girl  
The one pushed aside by the cold, cold world  
You are  
Hear me when I say  
You're not the worthless they made you feel  
There is a Love they can never steal away  
And you don't have to stay the broken girl

Those damaged goods you see  
In your reflection  
Love sees them differently  
Love sees perfection  
A beautiful display  
Of healing on the way tonight  
Tonight

This is a song for the broken girl  
The one pushed aside by the cold, cold world  
You are  
Hear me when I say  
You're not the worthless they made you feel  
There is a Love they can never steal away  
And you don't have to stay the broken girl

Let your tears touch to the ground  
Lay your shattered pieces down  
And be amazed by how Grace can take a broken girl  
And put her back together again

This is a song for the broken girl  
The one pushed aside by the cold, cold world  
You are  
Hear me when I say  
You're not the worthless they made you feel

There is a Love they can never steal away  
And you don't have to stay the broken girl  
You don't have to stay the broken girl

**Author's Note:**

> Annette's story is my very own. The experiences I gave her are the experiences I went through. Annette is my age. 
> 
> I wanted to add in Alex Danvers because she is my favorite character on the show so when I thought about which character could help Annette most it would be her. Sure they are the same age but age doesn't matter when it comes to this topic. 
> 
> Is it still difficult to deal with? Absolutely. Will I deal with it my entire life? Yes. Is it an addiction? Unfortunately it is. I started when I was twelve. Sometimes people can overcome it, other times it takes people a little while longer. Is there hope? Absolutely. 
> 
> There is help out there. Hotlines, organizations, counselors/therapy/psychiatrists. 
> 
> If you are suffering through this just know you're not alone. I'm only a message away if you want to talk. My handle on Twitter is @ronros47 if you want to send me a dm there as well. I'm willing to listen.


End file.
